


Alamo

by Savorybreakfasts



Series: Flames [3]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: BDSM, Established Relationship, Flogging, Julian is a bossy bottom, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 21:19:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11998170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savorybreakfasts/pseuds/Savorybreakfasts
Summary: Julian comes home from playing Alamo with O’Brien. Garak wants to continue the game.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Santa Anna (the general) really is spelled like that, I don't know why.

Julian entered their quarters and crossed to kiss Garak, who was sitting in his chair drowsing, a PADD in his lap. It was only recently that Julian had come to feel safe rousing Garak; the rhythm of his step, his smell, must have worked their way into the spy’s subconscious enough that Julian did not fear a knife to his throat. This safety did not extend to prevent sighs, huffs, and side-eye, all dispensed liberally as Garak woke, and took in the sight of Julian in a fringed jacket and cap made from the pelt of a Terran animal he called a raccoon. Garak was glad the cap was replicated, whatever a raccoon was, it did not deserve to give its life for such a horrendous hat.

“My dear! There’s blood on your jacket!”

“Oh, this. Yes. Miles’ men captured me.”

Garak quirked an eye ridge.

“He was playing Santa Anna. There’s room for historical deviation in the program, so we played to capture and he won. I owe him drinks now.”

Julian took the jacket off, dropped it in the floor in front of Garak’s chair, eliciting another huff, and went to replicate a cup of tea. Garak picked up the jacket and looked at the stains and rips.

“But why the blood? Aren’t there safeties on those things?”

“Oh, um, yes, but that only prevents the holograms or the setting from hurting you. It doesn’t do anything to stop your opponents. Anyway, I fixed my nose already, just not the costume.”

“You’re telling me the chief hit you? In the face?“ Garak sat up, an ominous glint in his eye. Julian set down his tea and paced the floor in front of Garak.

“Things got a bit rough. And don’t get any ideas about saying, or even hinting, anything! I’ll never live it down if Miles thinks I sent my Obsidian Order partner to intimidate him because I got hurt in a game! You know how long it took before he saw me as anything more than prissy and childish.”

“My dear. I apologize. I would never do anything to undermine your friendships. As much as this particular one baffles me. And how anyone could see you as prissy or childish. I saw your depths from our first meeting.”

“You did? Garak, you never said. When I think of how I bounded up to Ops that day to tell everyone you had spoken to me…I always thought you’d seen the same foolish kid they all did.”

Garak pulled Julian down to his lap.“Never foolish. And I may be an old man, but you were never a kid to me.”

Julian smiled and kissed his partner. There were still surprises. He suspected there always would be.“Now, what was this about you getting captured? And it getting rough? I want to hear all about it. In detail, please.”


	2. Chapter 2

“And then what?”

“Then nothing. He won; I was captured; we shook hands and dusted off.”

Garak had divested Julian of his clothes as he told the story of the battle and his capture. Now Julian was straddling his lap, having traded his story for kisses, caresses, and bites.

“What a wasted opportunity! I can't believe this Santa Anna had you at his mercy and let you go.”

“Garak! It was Miles!”

“Mm, don't remind me. Now, back to your story. Did he tie you up?”

“I told you, Miles and I ended the game.”

“I'm not asking about Miles. What did Santa Anna do?”

“Oh! Oh. Yeah, um, he took my belt…”

Garak picked up the leather belt from the floor by his side and held it up, questioningly.

“Yeah, that. And he…”

Garak took Julian's hands, pushed them behind his back, bent at the elbows, and wrapped the belt around, lacing his wrists together then buckling it in place.

“I think you know what he did; I think you can take over the story.” Julian's voice was barely controlled and Garak smiled.

“He had your hands bound. I can't imagine he let you sit on his lap like this. No, I think he made you stand in front of him.”

Julian obeyed, wobbling a bit, not having his arms for balance. He stood in front of Garak, arched his back slightly. Garak traced his fingers down Julian's smooth torso, delighting in its alien textures. “Such a beautiful young man.”

“I won't...I don't know what you’re planning--”

Garak grabbed Julian's balls and twisted. Julian hissed in pain, but remained upright and made no other noise. “So defiant. I see this will take a bit more.”

Garak stood, and walked behind Julian. He wrapped one arm around his neck, pressing his forearm against Julian's soft, unprotected throat. “Don't move.”

He deftly removed the belt, then brought down his arm from around Julian's neck so that he could take one wrist in each hand and circle them in front of his captive partner, binding them with the belt. “I think you need to be reminded of your position here. I think you still think you have power.”

Garak pushed Julian ahead of him towards the bed with its non-Starfleet-issued headboard, all rococo carving and dark wood, with posts at the corners. Garak looped Julian's bound hands over the nearest, securing them with a tie that he left there for such purposes. Garak knelt down to pull out the chest from under the bed, breaking scene to grumble as he did so, “Really, my dear, we should store these higher up; my knees don't appreciate this location.”

“Please, I see you doing your hand-to-hand exercises, not to mention I'm your doctor; you're as fit as anyone on this station. Now back to this, please? Or is part of the scene to irritate me?”

Garak held up a short flogger triumphantly and all irritation flew from Julian's eyes.

“Oh, God, yes.”

He shuddered then put himself back in their game. “Don't think I'll surrender.”

Garak ran the strips of replicated leather down his back gently, reminded briefly of waking up to Julian leaning over him in his dreadful fringed jacket. So lacking in style, and yet...he whipped the flogger through the air, hitting the bed, so that Julian could hear it whistle, could wince at the blow that didn't connect with his back and imagine the one that did. Garak did it again, this time landing the flogger on the palm of his own left hand, for the sound, and also to gauge its impact; it had been awhile since he'd used this particular toy. It stung. Julian had grown very still. “I'm going to make you scream.” Garak winced internally at the cliched line he'd uttered, but his Julian loved these tropes. Besides, playing a holonovel villain kept at bay his own, darker memories of inflicting pain. He centered himself, drew back his arm, and landed the blow across Julian's back.

And now there was no effort, now there were no distractions, now there was nothing but the rhythm of leather cutting through air, landing on flesh, Julian's stifled gasps at impact. Again and again, until those gasps becoming stifled cries, then full-throated cries, and Garak saw a tear on Julian's clenched face.  
“Enough? Will you surrender?”

“Never!”

Garak threw the flogger to the floor and wrapped his arms around Julian, who winced as the wool of Garak's dressing gown made contact with the welts on his skin. Garak kissed his neck, lowered himself to lick along a red line left by the flogger. “So pretty. Your back is so beautiful. You are so beautiful. I don't know why we're waging battle over a piece of dusty land when you are the prize. I could leave it all behind just to have you in my bed.”

Julian moaned. Garak untied his hands and he turned himself around, wound his hands through Garak's hair and kissed him furiously. “Elim. Oh, Elim.”

And they were once again fully themselves, two different-specied men on a space station after a long week, trying to make space for friends and games and each other and love, with a war always in their minds. They kissed more, Julian digging his fingers into Garak's shoulder ridges, until Julian broke away and flopped forward on the bed.

“Something you'd like, my dear?”

“Oh, God, Garak stop playing and fuck me already!”

“Patience.”

Garak leaned over and began prepping Julian, who did not make things easier wriggling and yelling demands. Garak laughingly slapped his ass. “Lie still!”

And Julian did, for a moment, for long enough for Garak to assure himself that he was properly stretched and ready, then to line up and push in.

He reached around and wrapped his fingers, slick with his own lubricant, around Julian's pretty cock, and moved his hand in rhythm as they fucked. It only took a minute before Julian was yelling, then, “Oh, God, Garak I can't...what you do to me, I can't last, this is obscene….”

Garak did not slow, did not change his pace, as he said with far more calm than he felt, “Come for me, love.”

Julian did, shouting profanities and prayers and declarations of love. Garak rode him through until he gasped, “Oh, no, too oversensitive, can't take it,” and Garak pulled out. The air, and the texture of his own hand, were a shock after the heat of Julian's body, but his disappointment evaporated when Julian said, “Let me flip over, love” and managed to turn himself over, still between Garak's knees. He hissed as his back scraped the sheets, then gazed nakedly up at Garak. His face. He reached a hand up, but Garak brushed it away, kneeled up and continued stroking himself until his orgasm took him and he painted Julian's chest and belly with his come, then collapsed onto his lover’s warm chest.

They stayed like that for only a moment before Garak said, “We’re filthy. Shower, now. Water this time.”

“Only if you don't set it to boil.”

They showered leisurely. Julian brushed aside a moment’s concern about water usage. Afterwards they stripped the bed and changed the linens, poured themselves a whiskey and a kanar, and settled in on the sofa.

“Maybe next time you'd like to join me in a holosuite?”

“Mm. I think I'm content leaving the boys’ adventures to you and the chief. As long as you come home to me afterwards.”

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
